Nightswimming
by Solo Ensemble
Summary: A midnight dip in a remote Tuscan village is how Jason and Elizabeth meet in this romantic short story.
1. Nightswimming

**Nightswimming**

There was only one thing that Jason Morgan regretted about killing Joseph Sorel.

And that was killing him.

Oh, he knew it was a good thing that the pint-sized mob boss was worm food. It was a good thing that Sorel was no longer trying to run narcotics through Port Charles, especially at a time when the government agencies were cracking down so heavily on such trafficking. And it was a good thing that Sorel was no longer plotting to kidnap Sonny's children, and it was a good thing that Sorel could no longer shoot Brenda – graves had a way of dampening such aspirations.

No, it was a good thing that Joseph Sorel had kissed off, for everyone concerned.

The only bad thing was that because he had killed him, Jason had been forced to remain in exile _here_.

God damn.

_Here _was San Adessi, a quaint little town in Tuscany, Italy. It was located about forty miles from San Gimigniano, one of the more famous Tuscan towns, and that was where one of Sonny's former associates lived. Sonny figured San Adessi would be a safe place to send Jason until things blew over and until both the cops and Sorel's friends stopped looking for him. And the associate in San Gimigniano was an added bonus: if Jason was in need of money or protection or Sonny needed to get a message to him without risking his best friend's life, the associate would take care of it.

It was all well and good on paper, Jason had to admit. Sonny said that San Adessi was a sun-kissed wine town that was one of Tuscany's best kept secrets, and that the chianti made there was unlike any found elsewhere in the world. When he had first been told of the plan, Jason had readily accepted.

And then he set foot in the town.

It was pretty enough, sure, but one could only get so far on 'pretty.' Maybe it was just that it was nighttime and every strange place only looked worse in the nighttime, but Jason found San Adessi far from impressive.

It had the bearings of a depressing one-horse town where the locals lived on a strict timetable despite the fact that not a clock had been wound in San Adessi for over a century. The dusty church with the cracking tower was the largest building in the actual town, located right across the street from the town hall. The houses were small and clustered together in streets that might have managed to look cozy in the daytime but only looked cramped at night. The grape orchards spread far and wide, sprawling around a vast stone estate that Jason guessed was owned by the richest man in town, the unofficial ruler.

There was always one of those, no matter what society.

His own little house abutted the magnificent stone estate and looked quite pathetic in comparison. It was something Jason wasn't used to, and he mused in retrospect that maybe that was why he was less than thrilled with the town of San Adessi. In Port Charles, he lived in the most upscale part of town. His office was on the valuable waterfront, he always drove the most expensive cars there, and his former family's house was the oldest and largest residential building in town.

Here in San Adessi, he had none of that. He was a nameless foreigner, a stranger in a strange land, and he couldn't rely on any of the luxuries that had made his life in Port Charles so…comfortable. He was starting from square one with these people, with this town. They had no reason to like him, no reason to hate him, but most importantly, no reason to fear, admire, or respect him.

And that just rubbed him the wrong way.

He growled and snarled all through the walk past the handsome stone estate, wondering just what the hell one had to do in such a slow, sleepy little town to amass that kind of wealth. Probably some old asshole like his grandfather that had cheated and lied and hoped to take all that shit with him when he kicked the bucket.

After what seemed like forever, he arrived at the gate of his own house. And standing there in the middle of the street, looking around him and then at his new abode, Jason had to admit that it looked just a little better than most of the other houses. It was one-story building just like the others, but it had a painted fence all around it while the other houses were just laid out one next to the other.

The rooms were spacious enough, especially considering that he was just one man and expected no guests. There was a cozy kitchen with a stove and a large oven and a refrigerator that, despite being old, looked to be in perfect working condition. There was a large dining room that opened out into a slightly smaller living room with huge windows that overlooked both the street and the back yard. After living the past few years in a fortified penthouse with bulletproof windows and a single balcony, the open exposure was something Jason wasn't altogether used to.

Though unsure as to how he'd like it, he pushed on and explored the rest of the house. There was one medium-sized bedroom that would barely hold more than his king-sized bed at home. Here, he had a fancy-looking armoire of some sort, a tiny closet, a small lounge chair by the massive windows, and a medium-sized bed.

Good thing he wasn't expecting any women here: the two of them would fall right off the bed!

There was another tiny room, the guest bedroom, he assumed. It held a single bed covered in a pretty patterned quilt, a little bureau that Jason seriously considered transferring into his room had the armoire not looked so heavy and breakable, and little else. It would do if he had a very petite person spending the night at his 'home.'

Grimacing, Jason rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands and headed into the kitchen once more, hoping that there was at least something to eat there. He found some bread and a few cuts of cold beef, which he was grateful for, so he slapped them together into a hasty sandwich that he consumed in less time than it took to assemble it. He'd have to hit up the market first thing in the morning if he wanted to survive here long enough for Sonny to bring him the hell back home again.

His hunger at least partly satiated, Jason decided to examine the property next. The front yard was nice enough. The grass was a touch long, just as he liked it, and thankfully there weren't any flowers for him to take care of. His back door was found in the kitchen, and a pathway of sanded stones led away from the house and down the gently sloping hill to the little meadow that opened out before his land was abruptly cut off by a pitiful little creek that trickled down from the larger river running through the property of whoever owned the stone estate.

But as he moved closer, walking through the tall grass of the meadow in his bare feet, Jason saw that the pitiful little creek actually was a larger river. It was surprisingly tranquil at night, but moved gently through the adjacent properties. The full moon hung low in the sky, its reflection rippling in the crystal waters. The river curved through the land and under the weeping willows, and was so wide that there was actually a small island full of bushes and shrubs in the middle, almost hidden from view underneath the low-hanging trees.

And the view only got better, because as Jason squinted out into the distance, he saw something pale moving through the inky darkness. A woman's form, petite but curvy, glowing like lit alabaster, could be seen on the little island.

She was exquisite.

Milky skin that he knew even from a distance would be smooth and velvety under his rough hands; limber, finely shaped limbs boasting supple but feminine young muscles; and long, silky brown curls that shone under the gentle moonlight.

Not particularly caring that he was ogling this nude young woman, Jason crept closer to the water's edge and just watched her. He was a little too far from the little island to get the clearest look at her, and the fluttering vines of the weeping willows hid strategic areas of her body that he most wanted to see. 

She had no idea he was watching her. He was at a bend in the river, hidden from her view even though she was facing in his direction, and he could watch her freely without recourse. As it was, the nimble brunette was dipping her toes in the undoubtedly cool water, testing it, then drawing it back and taking a deep breath that seemed to elongate her entire form.

And then, smooth as silk, she slipped into the gentle waves.

Jason felt his jaw slacken as he watched her lithe form dip in and out of the water, treading the water like a lover moves over the beloved. Instead of stopping at the property line, of which this nymph clearly had no concept, she swam along with the gentle river until she was practically in his backyard.

Jason smiled to himself and watched her from his meadow, his arms crossed solidly over his chest. Maybe San Adessi wouldn't be such a slow, sleepy little town for him after all.


	2. The Recklessness of Water

**The Recklessness of Water**

She was the only girl in the village he had eyes for.

Everyone knew this. The old men laughed about it as they smoked their pipes under the midday sun. The women whispered and teased as they sat on the banks of the river with the day's wash. The little boys snickered and hooted, then quickly ran away or hid before they could be spotted by the man in question. The young women, for their part, were hideously jealous along with the other young men of the village, who felt that they should be the first choice in romantic selection for the youngest sister of the town's wealthiest man.

But Jason didn't know any of this. And even if he did, he wouldn't have given a damn. All he knew was that she made him drop to his knees in the dusty chapel and thank the Lord for delivering him to the town of San Adessi.

Elizabeth Adessi, a descendant of the town's founder, was unlike any other woman he had ever been with. In truth, she was unlike any woman he could have imagined possibly falling for. And maybe that was why Jason fell so hard for her.

She was one of the only girls in the village that spoke English in addition to their local dialect of Italian. He had been so surprised the first time he heard her speak it. They had been walking to church with her just a few paces ahead of him and Jason could _not _stop himself from taking in the mesmerizing sway of her hips as she walked and before long he realized how smitten he was and cursed himself for it, causing her to turn around with an arch look and teasingly inform him that he better not be planning to enter the house of God with such blasphemous vocabulary fresh on his tongue.

He sought out every opportunity to be with her after that – just because he found his bland language so hopelessly sexy when she spoke it. Italian – her language – was supposed to be the language of love, but Jason was pretty sure he'd get off on listening to her read the English dictionary.

It was pretty disgusting, really, how taken with her he was.

Her brother Steven apparently thought so, too. Stephan Gianni Adessi was the most educated and wealthiest man in town, and he also spoke English and was more than capable of understanding the wicked things Jason was saying to his little sister. The present generation of Adessis attended school in nearby San Gimigniano where Steven also did business and after their father Goffredo Adessi's passing, Steven had moved his family, consisting of himself, his wife, and two sisters, back to the own their ancestors founded. He was now the informal mayor of San Adessi, and not a thing went on within the town walls that Steven didn't know about.

But even the formidable older brother wasn't enough to deter Jason, thus further separating him from the other young men in the town. He pursued Elizabeth as doggedly as ever, never missing an opportunity to engage in banter or their playful sparring matches, nor missing the opportunity to invite her to skinny-dipping in his river.

The river that ran through their adjacent properties was a sticking point with Elizabeth. She had been absolutely mortified to learn that the new man in town had watched her swim naked in her river and threatened to tell her brother of his transgression.

Jason had replied that he had done nothing wrong and was merely inspecting his property as any good landowner was wont to do. Furthermore, it was she that had proven a wanton by going for a dip in a strange man's river without her clothes on.

And from that day on, they had argued about who owned the river. It was a playful argument, never malicious or hurtful, as Jason maintained that the little island fell in his lot while Elizabeth insisted that the part before the bend belonged to her brother and she could swim naked in it if she damn well pleased.

And she did.

Damn her, the little minx, she did it again and again just to tease him.

He couldn't figure it out, and it was the most damning, beguiling thing ever, but Jason liked it that way. Elizabeth Adessi was the sweetest, most demure and modest young woman he'd ever had the misfortune of lusting after – when she was on land.

In the village, she never lingered with him. She hardly ever laughed in his presence as the other girls did, merely batting her lashes at his jokes and sly innuendos. And she certainly never strolled around the gardens with him, nor did she accept his invitation to his home.

In the water, however, all that changed.

Elizabeth Adessi was transformed, and Jason Morgan was a man possessed as he did his best to resist her feminine charms. In the water, Elizabeth was a minx. She still swam naked in the river she continued to assert was hers, shedding her clothes on the little island and cannon-balling into the water before he could catch more than a glimpse of her nude body.

He tried not to watch the first time she did it when she knew he'd be watching. And then he gave it up altogether and made a show of watching her, just to see if it would embarrass her. She put on quite a show of her own, never going so far as to do anything that would tarnish her virtue, and he just watched from the land. The next day, she'd pretend as if nothing had happened and he'd spend the whole rest of the day reliving his arousal and his frustration.

And then one night, he'd beat her to the punch.

When Elizabeth hopped across the stones from her side of the river onto the little island and started to disrobe behind the protective wall of weeping willow vines before slipping noiselessly into the water, she discovered that she wasn't alone in the crystalline waters. Jason had thoroughly enjoyed the shock on her face and the way her lips fell into a stunned "o" when she saw him treading the water a few yards away, perfectly naked.

It had become another kind of game that night.

From then on they took their nightly swims together, both of them nude, neither one getting too close. They swam in circles around each other sometimes in lazy figure eights; other times they just treaded the water a short distance away from each other and talked, never loudly because even though they couldn't be seen, they could most definitely be heard.

And Elizabeth was quick to remind him that if her brother Steven so much as heard a peep and came to find them, he'd have the two of them standing in front of the vicar before they could properly dry off.

Jason had to bite his tongue to keep from telling her that he hoped Steven _would _find them, if that would be the end result.

So their night swimming continued, and each time he pulled himself out of the cool water and pulled his clothes back on, Jason tried his hardest to believe that he was okay with this level of intimacy. The fact remained that Elizabeth was an innocent, wholesome town girl despite her somewhat urban upbringing, and Jason knew she wouldn't sleep with him unless she had his ring on her finger.

To that end, he was glad that their exploits took place in the water because that went a long way in keeping him under control. Simply put, it was difficult to become heavily aroused when swimming in such cool water late, late at night. And that was probably the one thing protecting her virtue, the little minx, and Jason was sure she had no idea.

She trusted him far too much, and he didn't know whether to be flattered by that or nervous about it. Sure, she never gave in to his advances and she was seductively coy at best – even though that proved a _huge _turn-on for him – but her trust in him was clear. And that made things awkward for Jason, partly because whenever he was with her he had to actively fight the urge to lay her down and claim her as his own, and partly because he was keeping a secret of such dramatic proportions from her.

He had no idea if she would still trust him if he ever told her about his real life: his family back home consisting of Sonny and Brenda and their kids and a bevy of hired guards, his accident and the resulting brain damage, and all the men he had killed over the years. As far as Elizabeth was concerned, he was a somewhat poor foreigner that had chosen their town in which to settle down. She had no idea that Sonny would be sending the message by their associate that it was safe for Jason to come home, to return to his bullet-proof penthouse and the millions he enjoyed as payment for his dangerous lifestyle.

And he didn't want to think about what might happen if she ever came to know all of that.

So he focused on their night swimming and pushed those thoughts out of his mind. He'd only just met her, but he already couldn't handle the thought of not being with her. His feelings for this girl were laid so completely bare as they floated beneath the low hanging moon that he could barely believe it, but they were there and they were real all the same.

He was late tonight. Elizabeth was already in the water, weaving up and down in the strong ripples her body created, and for a moment Jason just watched her tread water gently and smooth her wet hair back from her face. Her skin glowed an almost unearthly white under the soft moonlight, making it look like she was lit from within, and he felt the waters pulling him toward her as if there was no movement required on his part at all.

She was waiting for him, too. He saw it in the curve of her smile, in the sudden brightness of her eyes, the expectant tilt of her chin just above the rippling waters.

"You're late," she got out softly, her English sounding as if she curled the words around her tongue, tasting them like sweet cream before letting them out. "I was beginning to think you'd forgotten about me."

She could always make him smile. Even when he received troubling messages from his associate about the state of affairs back home, even when he was beginning to doubt he'd ever see Sonny again, she could always make him smile.

Jason kept his distance and tread the water slowly. "When have I ever forgotten about you? You don't _let _me forget."

Elizabeth laughed at his teasing and bobbed lightly, letting him catch a glimpse of her collarbone. "So some would say I'm…unforgettable?"

"Don't care what some would say," he replied easily, drawing just an inch closer. "That's what I say."

Her smile grew. "Well, a lady likes to be told that every now and again."

"I'd tell you a lot more if you'd listen," he hinted, his eyes glowing with the devil as hers glittered with mirth.

Elizabeth pretended to blink innocently. "You're always telling me things, Jason. I can't seem to get you to be quiet. What more could you have left to say before my brother comes after you with his rifle?"

Jason tossed his wet hair out of his face, letting her know with a sloppy smile that he was entirely unconcerned. "I've gone up against a lot worse than a rifle." And then, before the full meaning of his words could catch up to her, he added, "And I like to think you'd be worth it."

She graced him with a mock pout. "You'd like to think? You're slipping in my esteem, Jason."

No one talked like that. Except her, taught by rigid nuns in the best English medium school in San Gimigniano. And he loved her all the more for it.

"I'll try to do better," he promised, noticing how her eyes widened when he closed the distance between them by a few more inches. "What about you?"

She was a little distracted by his proximity, even though he was still a good two feet away. "Me?"

He dipped his head, his chin just skirting the water. "What do you think?"

Elizabeth blinked rapidly as he advanced just a couple more inches. "What do I think?"

"Now who's talking in circles?"

The way her lips settled into a peevish line told him that she wasn't amused. "How can I answer when you won't even give me the question?"

Jason gave her a slow, indulgent smile, the kind he knew annoyed her to no end. She always hated it when he appeared to know something she didn't, and that was quite often because he was far more experienced than she and was bound to know things that eluded her entirely.

She just hated being reminded of that.

"Would I be worth it?"

He was doing a good job of flustering her and distracting her as he drew closer. "Would you be worth what?"

Jason was close enough now to make out the swells of her breasts well under the water, but he miraculously managed to keep his eyes glued to hers. "You tell me."

He didn't even have any idea what he was saying, anymore. She had the damnedest way of making him forget. But Elizabeth still seemed to be trying to figure it all out, as she always did, and he was more than content to let her think herself in circles as he used the opportunity to get closer.

Tonight, he was going to do it. He was going to kiss her and she wouldn't even spot it coming. By the time he was done, though, she'd realize that she couldn't live without him. It put a lot of pressure on the kiss, really, but Jason felt he was up to it.

Hopefully, though, the water was cold enough so that _she _wouldn't feel how 'up to it' he was.

"Tell you what?"

He was close now, so close.

"What would I be worth?"

Elizabeth swallowed noisily when she felt his fingers brush against hers under the surface. "To me?"

He tangled his fingers in hers, using the gesture to bring her just a little closer. "Mm."

"I-I-" She bit her lip as his fingers gently hovered at her back, pulling her into an extremely loose embrace in which no other part of their bodies touched. "I don't know what to think-"

"Don't think," Jason murmured, surprised by the urgency that crept into his voice the second his fingertips made contact with the small of her back. "Just feel."

And then he kissed her.

He'd intended it to be soft and gentle and loving, the perfect first kiss that every young woman like Elizabeth dreamed of. He had intended to keep it chaste while letting her know with no small measure of uncertainty that it could lead to so much more. He intended to kiss her and pull back just enough to let her lean forward in hopes of more.

He intended for all those things to be the case, but the second his lips touched hers, Jason was lost. It was the most delicious feeling of sinking – because, really, they were swimming in a river that wasn't all that shallow – but it was warm and spicy and velvety and sent his senses spinning.

His lips coupled with hers as his hand swept around her and gathered her up in his arms. Elizabeth's breath fluttered into a gasp when Jason brought her naked body up flush against his, her breasts flat against his chest and her legs rubbing up with his, and then he tasted her heady moan.

Unable to get enough, he pulled her closer and urged her lips to part, sweeping his tongue in and letting her get used to the invasion so he wouldn't frighten her. Their movement brought her weight solidly against his, causing Jason to sink slightly so that he had to tilt his head back to remain above the water's edge. This caused Elizabeth's body to rise as she gripped his shoulders with two strong hands, leveraging herself above him, slanting her hot mouth over his as his body sank lower against hers. 

Jason groaned at the delicious friction, especially when he felt the peak of her breast touch low against his neck. His hands crept lower, flirting with the flare of her hips and her bottom, and if he hadn't snapped himself out of it he would have been slipping his hands underneath her thighs and having her wrap her legs tightly around him.

But Jason did snap himself out of it, and the spell was broken. Elizabeth's lashes fluttered and her eyes opened just a crack, only enough to see Jason gaping at her. She further amazed him when, instead of immediately pulling back and blushing a beet red and blurting out that this shouldn't have happened and she didn't want to see him anymore, she treated him to a lazy smile and gently brushed his wet hair away from his cheek.

Jason sputtered something unintelligible as her fingers traced their way through his thick, matted hair and abruptly let her go. Elizabeth dipped under just a little, spitting out a mouthful of water when she kicked her way back up, and looked at him in perfect surprise as Jason tried to say something – again, unintelligible – and then gave up and turned his back on her.

And Elizabeth had to lift her hand to her mouth to hide her smile and the laughter that bubbled up inside her as she watched the tough-talking, innuendo-dropping, generally indomitable Jason Marianni flee to the safety of shore.


	3. Laughing Quietly Underneath My Breath

**Laughing Quietly Underneath My Breath**

"I don't like him."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes as she buttered up her breakfast roll and reached for the jam. "Steven, you don't like any man that likes me."

Her brother arched a dark brow at her and rustled the morning paper that he was attempting to read. "That being the case, I still have valid reasons for not liking him."

She rolled her eyes again, waving her roll to emphasize her exasperation. "What could you possibly not like about him? The fact that he's not as well off as we are?"

Steven glared at her. An urbane man, he hated when his wealth or the lack of wealth of others was brought up as a strike for him or against them – or the other way around. "You know that's not the reason, Elizabeth."

"What, then?" she persisted, sitting back hard and rather informally in her ornately carved chair. There were only two of them in the dining room now, seeing as how Steven's wife was visiting her mother with their two young sons, and the staff knew better than to needlessly enter the room when the family was eating.

"What don't you like about him? He doesn't bother anyone, he doesn't get drunk and behave lewdly, he's never picked a fight with any of the other men-"

"Even though some of your besotted idiots are begging for it," Steven murmured behind his glass of juice.

Elizabeth arched a brow at him. "And do you count Jason as one of my besotted idiots as well?"

He actually considered it. "Well, I suppose I can't in my right mind call that man an idiot, per se, but I can think of a slew of other words to refer to him."

She rolled her eyes again. "Spare me."

"Only if you'll spare me and just drop him like a foolish thought," he teased, only half-joking.

"I don't understand your objection to him," Elizabeth continued, her tone serious now. "The only thing I can see working against him in terms of your favor is that he's not from here. But, Steven, _we're _not from here, not if you really think about it. We might have been born here, but Papa took us to live in the city when we were young, and it was only after his passing that you moved your family and me and Sarah back. If you want to be technical, we're not really from here, either."

He shook his head dismissively. "It's not that. I wouldn't care if he was from the moon if I liked him well enough."

She groaned, thoroughly exasperated. Her brother was such a chore sometimes. No, make that all the time. "Then why not? Steven, if you don't tell me, I promise I'll go out and do something perfectly devious to him just to spite you, and then you'll be hauling us to the vicarage faster than you can say-"

"He's not the sort of man to be looking for a wife."

Elizabeth stopped. Stopped and stared at him. "What?"

Steven met her eyes evenly, but with just a hint of awkwardness. "Elizabeth, he's not looking for a wife. He's only looking to have some fun."

She sat back in her seat, not fully following. "Explain?"

Her brother let out a heavy sigh, clearly not savoring the thought of having to have this discussion with his youngest sister. He was a full twelve years older than her and remembered her younger years very well, and that was mostly why Steven found news of Elizabeth's imminent courting personally troubling.

"I know men like him, Elizabeth," he started slowly. "All of my friends were just like him. Men like Jason Marianni are not looking for wives, sweetheart."

She arched a brow imperiously. "And what are they looking for, if you know so much?"

Only Elizabeth could have gotten away with speaking to him that way, and they both knew it.

"A good time," Steven replied simply. "They're looking for fun and very little more."

"Fun? And what do you boys do for fun, Steven?"

He rolled his eyes, more out of embarrassment than exasperation, and remained careful in his use of pronouns. "They drink, they smoke, they gamble, they whore around. It's all about having fun, because they're young and that's just what young men do. Trust me, Elizabeth, at this age, Jason cannot possibly be thinking about how to properly court a young woman of your standing, or about a wife or children. He's interested in having fun, and I won't let him have it at the expense of my sister."

Elizabeth's lips curved into a smile even though her brother's voice had become fearfully firm. "And what about you? Did you have _fun _like that at his age, too?"

Steven stilled, his butter knife half-lifted and poised in the air. "…I don't think I know-"

"Don't think," she teased, leaning forward conspiratorially. "Just answer. So? Did you?"

"Did I _what_?"

Ah, evasion. One of their favorite games. "Did you have fun that way? Before you married Alana?"

Elizabeth felt like cheering when her normally unflappable, intimidating brother actually _blushed_. "I am not sure I would like to have this conversation with you, Elizabeth."

"Just answer the question," she pretended to coax. "After all, you were a boy. You must have been interested in the same things you claim Jason is."

His blush deepened. "All right, Elizabeth, we are most definitely not having this conversation."

She leaned back in her seat, pleased with her mini-victory. "Well, if you refuse to be forthright with me, then you have to grant me a concession."

His brows rose, and Steven looked almost amused. "Do I?"

Elizabeth nodded pertly. "Yes. You have to give me a chance to convince you otherwise."

Her brother's dark blue eyes flicked to hers. "And how would you propose to do that?"

She shrugged daintily and drummed her fingers along the edge of the table. She had to figure out a way to prove to her brother that Jason was nothing like what Steven had pegged him as. And even though she'd never heard him say the exact words, she knew as well as she knew herself that Jason was thinking of marrying her and making a family with her. And if her brother knew that, Elizabeth was confident that he'd accept Jason into their family as well.

"Funny that you use the word 'propose,' Steven."

---------------------------

Of all the goddamn…

As Elizabeth stretched out next to him and gazed at him through starry, hazy eyes, Jason just wanted to know one thing.

(1) Who the hell he pissed off to be in this situation in the first place.  
(2) How he wound up alone with Elizabeth.  
(3) Who had let her drink that much Limóncello.  
(4) Why they were in a barn.  
(5) And who the hell he pissed off to be in this situation in the first place.

Okay, well, technically, that was five different things and two of those five things were the same thing, but when Elizabeth was gently tugging him down onto the soft hay that had been pulled free of the bales, he didn't really give a damn about counting.

She smoothed a hand down his neck, settling back as he loomed over her, crouching like a feral cat. Jason purred when she stroked his hair back from his face, a movement she'd initiated countless times in the past and that now felt like second nature to them both.

He remained tense, though, when she pulled him down and brushed her lips expectantly over his. Her sweet gesture turned hungry, and Elizabeth actually placed a hand on the back of his head and used it to pull him closer.

"Jason?"

His name fluttered over his lips the way she said it, and Jason fought back a quick shudder. The slightest quiver of her breath sent warmth racing through his veins, and he wasn't sure that such a thing was wise at a time like this. After all, she was Elizabeth, and she was drunk, and she was beautiful, and he was just a man.

She bit her lip and gazed up at him in anticipation, smoothing her palm across his cheek. Jason turned his face into her hand, nuzzling the sensitive skin. His lips whispered up her arm and then he leaned down to brush them over hers.

Elizabeth arched up off the hay, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pulling him all the way down so that he was pressed alongside her, pinning her down into the hay with his considerable weight.

He kissed her deeply, savoring her warmth and eagerness. She was sweet and a little tart from the Limóncello, and all too ready for his advances. The skirt of her dress slipped down and her bare leg rubbed sensuously against his jean clad one as Jason plundered her mouth. Upon hearing him sigh into her mouth, Elizabeth gently placed her hand on top of his and led it up her side. Jason let her, enjoying the feel of silk against his rough palm even as he thought all the while, _this is wrong_.

She sensed his hesitation and pulled back, looking up at him with such trusting innocence and feminine seduction that Jason almost couldn't stand it.

The pad of her thumb traced the line of his lower lip. "Jason? Don't you want to…"

Her question was answered when he drew her thumb into his mouth. Elizabeth's pupils flared as Jason flicked her thumb with his tongue and then let go. "Oh, honey, I want to, very much."

But he'd never be able to take her like this. Not like this.

The corner of her mouth curved up hesitantly. "I promise I won't tell."

Jason's gruff breathing turned into a snarl as he reached for her again, this time catching both of them by surprise. God damn it…

-------------------------

"Steven!"

Dressed in his nightclothes and a dark robe, Steven pulled his pipe out of his mouth and turned around on the path leading into his gardens to see a furious Jason storming up the walkway.

"Hey! Adessi!"

The older man blinked, noticing the smaller, more petite form just behind Jason. "May I help you, Jason?"

He ignored the sarcastic and almost bemused drawl, and Jason felt a small pang of satisfaction when Steven's jaw dropped as he saw just who Jason was hauling up the walkway. "I have something of yours."

Steven gaped at his little sister, who was currently swaying on her feet and had to lean on Jason for support. The young man didn't seem to particularly like it, but he kept his arm firmly around her waist anyway as he ushered her forward. Elizabeth let out a happy sigh and rested her cheek against Jason's arm, staring back at Steven with wide, content, unblinking eyes.

"What is the meaning of this? Elizabeth, what on earth-"

"She had too much to drink," Jason growled, turning to the woman in question, "and she's not thinking clearly. You," he added, jabbing his finger in her face, "are _not _going to drink this much again. Understand?"

Steven coughed when Elizabeth sweetly kissed the finger that Jason wagged in her face. Jason sputtered something perfectly unintelligible – really, the boy seemed to do that a lot in the youngest Adessi's presence – and abruptly grabbed her shoulders, shoving her at Steven.

"Here," he snapped, barely waiting for Steven to catch hold of the young woman before she fell. "If you don't take her and lock her in her room, I'm not going to be responsible for my actions."

And with that, the man they knew as Jason Marianni turned on his heel and stormed up the walkway back to the street. Steven watched him go with something akin to wonder on his face, and his little sister still safely tucked against his side.

He remembered her as soon as Jason had disappeared from view in the darkness. "_This _was your brilliant plan?"

She beamed up at him. "It worked, didn't it? And I was right, wasn't I?"

Steven chuckled despite himself and gave her a playful little shake, already turning her shoulders around so they could walk back to the house. "Very well, you were right. And if that boy ever comes asking for your hand…"

"Yes?"

"…I suppose I'll have to give you both my blessing."


	4. What If There Were Two, Side By Side?

**What If There Were Two, Side by Side?**

_Two years later…_

"Two years later," Sonny Corinthos grinned, barely able to sit still as Francis guided their car along the winding, dusty road to San Adessi in the distance. "I can't believe it's been that long since we've seen him."

"Poor guy," Ritchie muttered, popping the top two buttons of his white linen shirt. It was unseasonably warm in Italy this summer, and he was glad he hadn't brought his sports jacket along. "Can you imagine, being stuck _here _all that time?"

Johnny looked out the window at the tiny dusty houses and shuddered. "I bet it's pretty enough at night – all rustic and quaint and shit – but it just looks run-down in the daytime."

"I guess it's a nice place to visit," Spinelli agreed, sweeping his long hair out of his eyes, "but I sure wouldn't want to live here. I don't know how Stone Cold survived."

"Hopefully, he didn't have it that bad," Sonny was quick to explain. "I made sure he was set up with his own house, and that he had plenty of money."

Spinelli nodded. He had insisted on coming along to bring Stone Cold the triumphant news of his imminent homecoming, and he was just glad that the ever-formidable Mister Corinthos Sir had obliged. "That sure was nice of you."

Sonny shrugged, unable to hide his excitement at being able to see his best friend again. "I guess, but I bet Jason was bored out of his mind."

Johnny and Ritchie nodded together. "Poor guy," the Irishman sympathized. "To be stuck here for two years…"

Spinelli looked out the window and shook his head. "He must have had the _worst _time."

Their boss smiled proudly, his eyes dancing with excitement as the car slowed to a stop. "That's why he'll be so glad to see us – and so glad to get the hell on out of here."

-------------------------------------

"Who was the genius in town that decided it would be great if all the houses…didn't have numbers on them?" Ritchie gestured wildly around him, clearly exasperated. The five of them had been walking around town for almost half an hour, trying to find out where their friend lived. Jason was nowhere in sight, even though the rest of the locals were out and about, washing their clothes by the river, getting fresh fruits from the market, smoking in the shade, or watching the children play in the street.

And none of them spoke English.

"Okay, look, we've gotta be smart about this," Sonny said, gathering his men around him.

Spinelli perked up immediately. "The Jackal could use his extensive hacking skills to-"

"There's no wi-fi in this podunk town, nerd-boy," Ritchie sighed, biffing him lightly upside the back of his head.

The boy gaped at them in horror. "What? No. No! Mister Corinthos, say it isn't true!"

"No wi-fi, Spinelli," Sonny informed him grimly. "And we couldn't use your hacking skills anyway. It's just a matter of walking around and going door to door and just trying to find him."

"We shouldn't have decided to surprise him," Francis muttered glumly. "We should have just visited your associate and come down with him."

"Surprises are better," Sonny snapped. "Now, come on, let's split up and walk around and see if we can find him. Try to talk to one of the locals, see if they can help at all."

"Excuse me?"

Johnny and Ritchie took a step to the side, revealing a petite brunette who was looking up at them with bright, curious eyes. "You speak English?"

Her lips twitched in amusement and she shifted her basket of fruits and vegetables to the other arm and offered her hand. "My name is Elizabeth Marianni," she smiled, "and yes, I speak English. Did you need any help?"

"We're looking for someone," Sonny tried to explain. "And we're not having much luck finding him."

She had a long strip of pale blue cloth wrapped from her shoulder down around her torso, and it shifted a little while the mobster spoke causing the men to stare at her mid-section. Elizabeth blushed and adjusted her hold on her basket so she could adjust the cloth, and the fabric parted enough for the men to see that the squirming bundle underneath was a tiny infant cuddled against her chest.

"My son," she explained needlessly, gratefully letting Johnny take her basket so she could resituate him. The boy, who had been sleeping, was now wide awake and blinking in the sunlight at the five men. He had a wild thatch of hair atop his head, so blonde it was almost white, and big, sweet blue eyes.

She settled the baby and tightened the wide sash that kept him strapped to her, then returned her attention to the men. "Now, you mentioned you were looking for someone? What's his name?"

Sonny shuffled his feet awkwardly. "Well, see, that's the thing…we don't really know."

Elizabeth and the baby blinked at him. "Beg pardon?"

"We don't really know what name he's going by," Francis explained slowly as Ritchie and Spinelli waved at the little boy.

She wasn't following. "Then how do you expect to find him?"

"We can describe him," Spinelli added hastily. "He's a great big Stone Cold One, with glacial eyes and he's about yea tall and built like a Buick, and-"

"_I_ can describe him," Sonny interjected smoothly when the woman began to look at Spinelli as if he were speaking in tongues. "He's not a native Italian. He has blonde hair that he must have been wearing short when he arrived, and he has blue eyes. He's a little taller than Ritchie over there, and he speaks perfect English and Italian."

Her eyes lit up, and Sonny knew he didn't have to say a word more. "Oh, Jason! You're talking about Jason!"

Ritchie and Francis exchanged glances. "Jason? He goes by that name?"

She nodded hurriedly. "Yes, of course, that's his name. You're friends of his?" They barely had a chance to nod before she was ushering them across the street. "Oh, good, he'll be happy to see you, I'm sure. He doesn't get very many visits from his friends anymore. I'll take you to his house."

"Gee, thanks," Spinelli replied, looking around at the other four for approval. This was a good stroke of luck: a nice young woman in the village that would actually take them right to Stone Cold's door. "We sure do appreciate it."

Sonny followed along, his expression troubled. He had assumed that Jason would adopt a fake name; after all, that was the whole point of hiding out and being in exile after killing a powerful man with powerful enemies. But then again, he should have expected this. Jason might have adopted a fake last name, but his best friend wasn't the sort to pretend, and he would have had a hard time remembering to answer to whatever fake first name he came up with, anyway.

And as long as no one had managed to put the pieces together over the past two years – and it appeared no one had – it was all well and good anyway. Besides, Jason was going home today, so it really didn't matter.

"Whose house is this?" Francis asked as they passed a magnificent stone mansion settled among sprawling, exquisite gardens. "It's beautiful."

"That's my home," Elizabeth beamed. "Well, rather, it was mine, before I married and moved into my own home. My brother Steven lives there now with his wife and my nephews and niece. I can introduce you later, if you like. He loves receiving visitors to San Adessi."

"Thank you all the same for your hospitality," Sonny was quick to say, "but I'm not sure how long we're staying in town."

Her smile became enigmatic. "Yes, that's what Jason said, too."

"Look at that river," Spinelli murmured. "And are those…deer over there? Man, that house has _everything_. It must have been fun to grow up there."

"I wouldn't know," their charming host replied brightly. "I was born in that house, yes, but my father moved us all to San Gimignano when I was very young. We only moved back when he passed away, about seven or eight years ago. That was when my brother married my sister-in-law Alana, and my sister Sarah and I stayed there until we married."

She led them past a freshly painted wooden fence – so freshly painted that an almost empty bucket of paint and an old brush actually sat by one of the posts – and placed her hand on the door. "We're here. This is Jason's home."

Sonny expected her to leave them at the gate and continue on her way with her son and her fresh produce from the market, and all the men were surprised when Elizabeth easily swung the door open and headed up the walkway to the front door – also open; really, Jason should have known better – of a charming little house with newly painted shutters. For someone who wasn't supposed to stay here long at all, Jason sure was getting a lot of work done on his temporary property.

"Right this way," she sang out as the infant against her chest gurgled and cooed. She jiggled him gently in her arms and stepped inside the house, waving for the men to follow.

Johnny was the first to step inside, and he set down the fruits and vegetables on the dining table that she pointed out to him. It was small but sturdy, and Jason had lain out a pretty tablecloth over it. They'd have to tease him about that later; after all, this was the man that had always used his hands as plates and his pants as napkins. Why the hell would he own a tablecloth?

The rest of the house was similarly cozy. There was a small sofa set in the family room with matching crocheted throws – aw, he really let them hit the jackpot with his interior decorating skills – and glass vases filled with fresh flowers. The walls held several black and white photographs, all framed in plain black frames that looked to be handmade. Maybe their old friend had picked up an extra skill or two while rusticating away here in sun-kissed Hell.

There was one of Jason standing in profile looking out at a river, most likely the one that ran behind his house. There was another one of him teaching two young boys with dark hair how to throw a football. And another one was of Jason and a tall man with curly dark hair, both of them dressed in matching black pants and white linen shirts with matching champagne flutes in their hands, laughing at something out of line with the shot. Several other photos hung on the other walls, but they were too far for the men to get a closer look.

"You don't have to wait with us," Sonny said, trying to usher the young woman out as politely as he could. "We're fine."

"Don't be silly," she replied absently as she unwound the sash that held her son against her and tossed it carelessly onto the couch. The baby yawned and settled his hand on the pale skin exposed by the neckline of her dress, just under her collarbone. "I'll go get Jason for you."

And before they could tell her that, no, really, they'd be fine (and could she please leave, because they had important, private matters to discuss with their friend?) Elizabeth turned and walked into one of the back rooms, presumably the bedroom.

"Kinda nosey, isn't she?" Johnny murmured to Ritchie. "Back home, Jason barely let anyone into his penthouse. I don't think he's the kind of guy to be happy about this chick walking in like she runs the joint."

"Uh…guys?"

Spinelli was standing, slack-jawed, gaping at another photo that hung on the wall. This one was of a young couple on their wedding day: a boy in a suit and a girl in a tea-length lacy white dress. "I think she does run the joint."

"What are you talking about, Spinelli?" Sonny was just about to walk over to see what had the boy looking so stunned when he heard his best friend's voice in the bedroom.

"Jason? Jason, where are you?"

That was Elizabeth. She'd apparently found her neighbor in his master bedroom.

"There are some men here to see you."

"Some men? Here?"

That was Jason. Sonny and the others perked up immediately at the sound of his voice, but the tension and suspicion there was unmistakable.

"Some men are here looking for me? Did they say anything to you? Did they do anything? Elizabeth, did they hurt you? Come here, let me-"

"Hurt me? No, Jason, of course not – Jason! You put that gun away! Not in front of the baby! For heaven's sake, they're very nice. There are five of them. Well, four men, one boy. Two of the men are quite tall, and with dark hair. The other one's shorter, and he has dark hair, too, but it's curly. And there's one with white hair, and one boy who talks very strangely. I didn't understand him – it must be your crazy American culture that's rubbed off on him."

His sigh of relief was audible, even in the next room. "Sonny. It's Sonny and Spinelli and the guys. Come on."

They heard movement, and the guys collected toward the middle of the room just as Jason walked into the living room. He broke out in a rare grin as soon as he saw them, unable to hide his excitement.

"Sonny! Spinelli – guys. You came – Francis, Johnny, Ritchie. It's good to see you again!"

But the men couldn't return his warm greeting. It was very hard to return a greeting, after all, when one's jaw was scraping against the floor.

Jason arched a brow. "Guys?"

"Oh, my God." Spinelli latched onto Sonny's arm as the mobster gaped at his friend. "He has a thing."

Jason stared at the boy, clearly not following, and all five men were quite unnerved at the two identical pairs of blue eyes that zoomed in on Spinelli. "A thing? I have a thing?"

"A baby," Spinelli corrected, now hiding behind Sonny and peeking out. "He has a baby and it's looking at me."

Jason looked down at his son, who looked right back up at him, and then glanced at Elizabeth. His wife had obviously recognized the names of his friends from their long conversation the night before their wedding – the night he scaled the wall to her second-story bedroom and told her everything and then said he'd understand if she wanted to call off the engagement and the wedding – and was now doing her best not to laugh.

Giving her a beleaguered but amused look, Jason adjusted the little boy in his arms and looked proudly back at his old friends.

"Guys, this is my wife, Elizabeth. And this," he lifted the baby a little higher, nuzzling the boy's downy hair when he gurgled, "is our son."

**The End.**

« _Last Edit:_ Nov 21, 2007, 5:07pm by Huma the Guma »


End file.
